


Worth

by fizzfooz



Series: Worth [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10188575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfooz/pseuds/fizzfooz
Summary: Noctis and Prompto are kidnapped. Written for a kink meme prompt. This fic contains graphic descriptions of rape and is not suitable for anyone who might be triggered by these themes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, sometimes I just want to write about things that are horrible. Please excuse any typos (I will come back and fix them later).

_Stupid, stupid Prompto._ He could have gotten away but he'd tried to help because of course he had. They were walking home from the arcade. Noctis hadn't seen any harm in taking a shortcut home through the alleys that led out from behind it. This was Insomnia under the rule of his father and the protection of the dome. Plus he'd had combat training since he was old enough to walk. Prompto was giddy, waving a tiny chocobo plush that Noctis had won for him in the air. He'd called it Kweebits and it was apparently going to live on his bedpost, and before Noctis could give him the ribbing he deserved for being such a dork, there was a hand covering his mouth and a thick arm around his neck.

He forgot every last bit of his training. By the time he realised what he should have done to free himself from the grip, it was too late. A needle pierced his neck. Other men were closing in his peripheral vision. He couldn't summon any of his weapons and his sight started to dim.

The last thing he saw was Prompto flying towards him screaming his name, Kweebits the tiny chocobo lying abandoned in the dirt.

###

Noctis woke up in an unfamiliar room, groggy and listless. He tried again for his weapons but they wouldn't come. When he tried to move, he found he was cuffed to a pipe that wouldn't budge no matter how hard he yanked on it.

Prompto.

Prompto was chained about a foot to the left of him. It hurt to turn his head far enough to see him but at least Prompto looked okay. No bruises or anything on him. He was leaning against the wall, head tilted so far back his chin pointed at the ceiling.

Where the hell were they anyway? It looked like a cheap hotel. Not that Noctis had ever been in a cheap hotel but he'd seen enough movies to recognise the aesthetic. They were cuffed in a narrow corridor with four doors leading off it. Two in front of them and one at either end. Noctis tried to remember every detail in case he needed them later to help his father track them down. But this place was as generic as they came: cracked walls, peeling paint, mould, a damp spot on the wall between the two doors.

Did people in the Crown City really live like this?

“Prompto?”

Prompto started and turned to him as much as he could. His freckles looked almost black, stark against how pale he was right now. “Noct. You okay, buddy?”

The forced bravado in Prompto's voice set Noctis' teeth on edge. “What did they do to you?”

“Nothing. Except, you know, the whole kidnapping thing. Can you get me a... a gun?”

“I can't get anything. They did something to me.”

“Well, that sucks.” It was almost Prompto's normal voice but a little too high-pitched and the casualness way too forced. Did he really think he had to pretend everything was all right when it clearly wasn't? He pulled at his cuffs but didn't get any further with it than Noctis had. “This thing isn't moving, huh?”

Gladio could probably have ripped it right off the wall but even the two of them together couldn't get it to budge. “Did they say anything?”

Where Prompto had been pale before, his face was suddenly full of colour. He reddened all the way from his cheeks to the collar of his shirt. “Not... not much. Nothing useful anyway. They know who you are so I guess that narrows it down?”

Not much. They could be after a ransom, anti-royalists, Niflheim spies, anarchists, or any one of a number of other factions. Ignis had been very specific about just how many enemies he had outside his home one day when he was complaining about having to do both training and homework. And also that eating his vegetables would make him stronger if he ever came face to face with any of them. Which was bullshit. Because eating his greens wasn't going to get him out of this situation.

Wait. Why would any of that make Prompto so red-faced?

One of the doors opened and a man emerged. Maybe the one who'd stuck the needle in Noctis' neck. Maybe one of the others. Noctis tried to commit his appearance to memory. He wasn't quite as big as Gladio but he was getting there. He had greasy blonde hair, blue eyes, and bruises on his knuckles. Maybe he'd be good-looking if he wasn't the kind of person who'd abduct two people who were just walking home.

“Don't you two look smart in your school uniforms?” he said.

Prompto had tensed the moment he entered the corridor. He tensed even further when he heard that, cuffs clanging against the pipes so that the sound reverberated all the way to where Noctis was held.

“What do you want?” Noctis said. If it was a ransom, his father would gladly pay it. And then the Kingsglaive would hunt every last one of them down. “Give my father your demands and he'll meet them.”

“Oh, princess. If we wanted money we could get you to jack off into a cup and sell your spunk off to anyone who wanted to continue the great line of Lucis.”

Honestly, the only thing Noctis could think of in response to that was _urrrghhh_ so he kept his mouth shut. Prompto's breath hitched, though. He was shaking too. Making a _tap tap tap_ against the pipe that was probably only audible to Noctis.

“Be good,” the man said. He unlocked Prompto first and rather than 'being good' Prompto kicked, punched and spat with everything he had. He got a few good ones in. A punch to the man's chest. A kick to his thigh. Another glancing blow to his shoulder. But he might as well not have bothered. The man simply pushed him down onto the floor, folder him over, and swapped out the cuffs for a ziptie.

“Try a stunt like that again and I'll tazer the princess here from the inside out.”

Noctis didn't want to guess at what he meant by from the inside out but Prompto shuddered and then grew completely still.

“Now stay.”

The man came for Noctis with the other key. If only he could warp. He could grab Prompto and be out of here before they knew what was happening. The hell had they given him anyway? He'd never heard of anything like this despite thousands of long, boring lectures on elemancy.

“You behave too,” the man said. “I'm not joking about the tazer. There's a nice spot just at Blondie's nape I'd love to press the contacts to.”

Noctis could have headbutted him. Could have kicked and punched like Prompto had. But he believed the man wasn't joking about the tazer. So he held out his wrists in front of him to be ziptied too.

“That's a good boy.”

The man pulled them both to their feet and marched them through one of the doors. Behind it, there were more men. They were all huge and covered in scars. Some of them were playing cards at a small table, some on their phones, one was reading a book, like some mirror world version of Noctis and his friends when they hung out together. About ten of them if he included the man that had brought them in. Which wouldn't have been an issue if he'd access to any of his powers but he didn't.

The first man sat him and Prompto down on the opposite side of the room to the others. There was another little table, plus a grimy bench and a row of mouldy cupboards plus the two wooden chairs he'd sat Prompto and Noctis on. The table held a few chunks of rock that glowed with familiar magic, some potions, and a few assorted daemon parts.

“You're going to make spells for us,” the man said. “Flare, freeze, and electon. And don't try playing dumb. I know you know what they are and I know you know how to make them. But how about a little test first? It took us a long time to get the ingredients. I need to be sure you won't fuck it up. Make me a stopcast. Can you do that, Prince Noctis?”

“What do you want magic for?”

The man backhanded Prompto so hard his chair fell over. Noctis flew to his feet, only to be held in place by a single hand to his shoulder.

“No questions.”

Someone behind them sniggered. The man pushed Noctis back down into his seat and picked Prompto and his chair up. Noctis chanced a glance at him. He looked... okay, actually. His lips were pursed, gaze fixed on his knees, and he hadn't made a sound when he'd been hit even though the chair had smacked against the floor.

The man slid the ingredients toward Noctis. A maiden's kiss. A tiny sliver of rock, just enough for him to draw the tiniest sliver of ice magic.

“I need my hands,” Noctis said.

The man pulled out a flick knife and sprang the blade. He cut Noctis' zip tie, leaving him to wriggle his fingers to get the circulation going again. Noctis drew the magic from the stone, mixed it with the maiden's kiss in the flask the way his tutors had shown him, and picked up the flask. _One stopcast coming up._ He hurled the flask.

Or tried to. The man caught his wrist mid-arc, squeezing the pressure points so he he dropped the flask right into his own lap. The effect was immediate. Freezing him right there with his arm still extended.

“Oh, princess,” the man said. “You aren't nearly as clever as you think you are.”

He cupped Noctis' chin and slowly stroked his thumb over Noctis' lips. Noctis couldn't move even to flinch but his skin crawled. “We might need your hands for the magic but we don't need the rest of you. Your legs. Your eyes. Your tongue. Your pelvis.”

No. The wheelchair had been bad enough. The intense physiotherapy so he could just stand up. The stuff he was talking about would last forever without the promise of recovery.

“You don't even need all of your brain.”

“Wait!” Prompto said. “You need him. You need his magic like you said and you don't know how it works. None of us do. But I've seen him do the magic stuff and it wears him out. Like, he has to sleep for a whole day. If you hurt him there's no way you'll be able to get as much magic out of him.”

The man considered it for a moment. “Nice try, Blondie.”

“It's true! You need him and-- and you don't need me. He can do magic and I can't do anything.” _No, that wasn't true._ Did Prompto really think he couldn't do anything? “We're friends. Best friends. So if you want to hurt him, then you have to hurt me.”

The best friends thing was true at least but what the hell was Prompto doing? Noctis couldn't watch him get tortured on his behalf. Couldn't watch them break his legs or blind him like they'd threatened to. That would be worse than all the pain and physiotherapy in the world.

He tried to say so. _Say anything._ But the stop spell held his jaw stiff. _Don't be stupid, Prompto._

“Loyal subject you've got there,” the man said.

 _He's not my subject. He's my friend._ Ridiculous that his own magic could hold him like this but he wasn't strong enough to break free from it.

“It's up to you, princess,” the man said. “If you don't want Blondie to take your punishment for you, all you have to do is say something... three... two... one...”

This asshole had to know Noctis couldn't say anything. He just hoped Prompto knew that too.

“Bad news, Blondie. But that's royalty for you. Selfish.”

He picked Prompto up like he weighed nothing and they disappeared from view for a second. The man reappeared and tipped Noctis' chair back so he could drag it and him across the floor, the legs scraping the whole way. When he'd dragged him all the way across the room, he turned it around to face the table that he'd dumped Prompto on top of.

The other men were sitting on various sofas and chairs, most of them paying rapt attention to Prompto. Prompto had that same determined set to his face but his chest was rising and falling rapidly and his face was pink.

“You get to watch, your highness,” the man said. “And think about this before you come up with any other clever plans.”

The man cupped Prompto's jaw the way he'd cupped Noctis' earlier. He pulled him up onto his knees by it and inspected his face. “Pretty little thing, aren't you?”

Prompto tugged his gaze away from him, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. Uncomfortable with compliments even when they were meant to humiliate him. The man yanked on Prompto's chin until he was showing Prompto's face to the rest of them.

“What do you think?” the man said.

“He's awfully young,” one of the others said. He didn't sound bothered my it. More... interested. Noctis wanted to gag.

“How old are you?” the first man asked, curling his hand upward so he was cupping Prompto's cheek again.

“Nearly eighteen.” Prompto's voice wavered.

“See? Nearly all grown up.”

“See if he's a natural blonde!” one of the others jeered.

_What the fuck?_

“Not many real blondes in the Crown City.” The first man pushed Prompto down onto his back and ripped his shirt open. The other men cheered like it was a fucking spectator sport. Like the ones Gladio watched. Prompto had a T-shirt underneath with a chocobo print. The one Noctis had given him for his last birthday. The man pulled out his flick knife and cut right through it, then pushed the pieces apart to show more of Prompto's chest.

Noctis had never seen him without a T-shirt. He locked himself in the bathroom when he changed. Wouldn't go anywhere with communal swimming or bathing. To be exposed like that, when he clearly hated being looked at...

“Nice body on him,” the man said, stroking the defined line that led from between Prompto's chest to his navel. Prompto shuddered, stomach visibly lurching. “Let's see about him being a real blond.”

The man yanked down Prompto's trousers and boxers. This couldn't be happening. This was nothing like what they'd threatened to do to Noctis and for Prompto who was private and self-conscious about his body to begin with, it had to be hellish. Not content with _fucking stripping him bare_ , the man ran his hand up and down Prompto's clenched thigh muscle. “Look at that. We have a natural blond. Lovely.”

Prompto seemed to be frozen in shock. He was stock still, torn shirt and blazer bunched up at his shoulders, trousers pooled at his ankles. Why did they have to put Noctis so close to this? So close he could see the tiny hairs on Prompto's legs standing up.

The man grabbed a handful of Prompto's crotch and he jolted. Noctis' stomach turned but the rest of him couldn't do a thing. Couldn't move. He couldn't even blink. Prompto tried to wriggle away from the touch but the man pinned him down with the other hand on his hip. “Have you ever seen another man's?”

Prompto didn't answer until the man squeezed hard enough on his balls to make him yelp. “No!”

“Are you telling me that a pretty little boy like you's still a virgin?”

The man's fingers twitched again on Prompto's balls. “Yes!”

“Well, we'll take care of that.”

 _No. No. No._ All the other thoughts fell out Noctis' head, replaced by that one word blaring over and over again.

The man pulled off Prompto's shoes, then his trousers and underwear the rest of the way.

This wasn't happening. Something like this couldn't happen in Insomnia. Not right under his father's nose.

The man flipped Prompto over and bent him over the edge of the table.

“What a sweet little ass,” he said. “Can't believe no one's fucked it before.”

Prompto let out a low despairing noise. Noctis tried to get his _fucking useless_ body to _fucking move_. A hand. A foot. A fucking fingertip. Anything to show that the stop spell was wearing off. That he'd be able to end this soon.

Nothing.

The man pulled out his cock, spread Prompto's ass and... and... pushed right into him. Prompto screamed so loud someone outside had to have heard it. Surely. Someone must have heard it and reported it. Especially since Prompto didn't stop screaming. Piercing, ragged screams that tore from his throat like he was being burned alive and the man just kept on going. Slamming him into the edge of the table until he finished with a moan that was somehow louder than all of Prompto's screams.

Prompto slumped onto the table. For a moment, Noctis thought he'd passed out. The man had been rough and there was _blood_ on him when he pulled out. He let out a low groan, hiding his face from Noctis.

“Okay, boys,” the man said. “Your turn. Keep your hands off the future king. Can't have him getting tired.”

Bile crawled up Noctis' throat but still nothing else in his body would move.

The other men descended on Prompto like a pack of dogs. They pushed and shoved at each other, arguing about who got to go first. 

Noctis tried to zone out but it didn't work. He kept getting pulled back to witness awful shit he wouldn't even have been able to imagine before. Like them turning Prompto on his back and yanking his head over the edge of the table so they could stuff their cocks so far down his throat he choked and gagged. His abdominal muscles clenched and clenched, trying to expel their pre-come and come. Noctis would be gagging too if he could move.

 _His fault._ If he hadn't have pulled that stupid stunt with the stop potion, this wouldn't be happening.

They cut off what was left of Prompto's clothes, all talking about how “pretty” he was and commenting on what they liked about his body. A cute pattern of freckles on his shoulders. Or a birthmark on his hip. His big blue eyes. His wiry muscles. Even his... his privates... Things Noctis had never wanted to see or know about.

Nine other men and they all took turns, manhandling Prompto into whatever position they liked. Or worse, didn't take turns. Two of them decided to both fuck him in the ass at once, making him scream all over again. Somewhere in all the horribleness they must have removed the ziptie that held his wrists because occasionally his arms flailed out from the crush of men on top of him. His fingers scrabbling on the tabletop.

Even if Noctis could close his eyes, the noises were just as bad. The men's grunts, moans, and taunts. Prompto's shrieks, whimpers, and retches.

One of them got up on the table and forced Prompto to ride him, keeping him upright with a bruising grip on his throat. His voice bored into Noctis' skull no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. “Such a beautiful boy.” The others circled. They snapped pictures on their phones. Commented on how hot Prompto looked. Like they weren't doing something unspeakable.

When they'd all finished either inside him or on his face, one of them smacked his ass a couple of times making him cry out again. Like they hadn't already done enough.

They left him curled up on the table. Not moving. Not making a sound. They went back to their business like nothing had happened. One of them started making a fucking pot of coffee. Like Prompto wasn't even there. Like they hadn't just raped him a few feet away.

The stop spell lasted what felt like years. When it finally, finally released he flew to Prompto's side. He had no idea what to do. If his being there would make it worse or not. But he couldn't just leave him there.

Prompto's eyes were glassy, the only sign he was alive at all his ragged breathing. His skin was peppered with bruises and caked in stuff Noctis didn't want to think about. Noctis removed his blazer and placed it over Prompto's lower body for all the cover that offered.

“Prompto?”

No response. Noctis tried touching his shoulder where it wasn't covered in drying mess. Prompto only dropped his mouth open and the implications of that made Noctis want to fling himself out of the window. He didn't dare touch him again.

“Prompto? Prompto!”

Prompto blinked and focused very slowly on Noctis. “Noct? Did they hurt you?”

Noctis thought his heart was already broken after seeing all that but apparently there'd still been some of it left to crush. Tears blinded him and then he was outright sobbing. Stupid. _Stupid_. What the fuck did he have to cry about? Prompto wasn't crying and it had happened to him.

Prompto squeezed Noctis' hand. There were red gouges in his wrist from the ties, the rest of his skin three shades paler than normal. “It'll be okay, Noct.”

Noctis choked back his tears. He was a piece of shit for forcing Prompto to comfort him right now. “You need a potion.” A doctor. A therapist. Noctis would get him anything he needed once they got out of here.

“Kinda,” Prompto said, trying for humour but his throat was scratchy and raw. His voice a croak.

“He needs--” Noctis cut himself off. He couldn't give them any excuse to hurt Prompto again. He might not survive another round. “Can I give him a potion? Please?”

The first man was sitting at the other table, a coffee in hand. He must be the leader of this sick shit show, the way he immediately assumed Noctis was talking to him. “You can give him one potion for every spell you make. Better work quickly.”

It wasn't like Noctis had a choice. But unfortunately Prompto hadn't been lying about the way magic drained him. He bartered for the two hi-elixirs they had. Three powerful spells as fast as he could make them. By the time he was finished, he could barely keep his eyes open but he made himself stand up. Pick up the elixirs. Head over to Prompto.

Prompto started violently when he approached but settled when he saw it was only Noctis. He handed over the elixirs and turned his back to give Prompto the privacy to use them. As much privacy as could be had in this place, anyway. When he turned back a little bit of colour had returned to Prompto's skin so maybe he'd helped with the physical stuff at least.

All his lessons, training, and private tuition and he still had no idea what to do or say. He wished Ignis was here. Not during what had happened. He'd wish that on no one. But Ignis always instinctively knew the best way to handle any situation.

“I'm sorry,” Noctis said. “I didn't think they'd-- I didn't know.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Prompto's eyes filled up with tears. He'd been doing such a good job of holding things together and Noctis had ruined it with a single sentence. “It wasn't you,” he said. “Don't be sorry.”

There'd have to be something deeply wrong with him for him not to be sorry. This was his fault. If he'd just made the magic like they said... “I could have stopped them.”

“Sure about that? Cause I kinda think guys who do stuff like--” Prompto winced and shuddered. “Probably aren't all that trustworthy. When you were out or asleep or whatever they did to you, they kept saying stuff about...” Prompto cringed into his shoulder rather than look at Noctis. “About what they were going to do to me.”

That all made perfect sense and Prompto was probably right. But it didn't make Noctis feel any less guilty. How was Prompto even capable of rational thought, right now? “You're amazing, you know.”

Prompto let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“You are.” Noctis wouldn't be able to speak after that. He'd be a wreck. His mind would check out and never come back. There were veterans of the Kingsglaive that who'd never have been able to withstand that kind torture. “You're tough. I mean, I always knew you were but you're like... tougher than Gladio thinks he is.”

The barest shadow of a smile appeared on Prompto's face. “You're safe. That's all that matters.”

What? _No._ Of course that wasn't true. Prompto mattered. He mattered so much. But before Noctis had a chance to say any of that, all hell broke loose.

The window behind him shattered open. Noctis threw himself over Prompto to protect him from the scattering glass and tried not to notice how his whole body tensed up under him.

The black uniforms of the Kingsglaive flashed past him as they warped around the room. Another glimpse of black and gold indicated that his father had joined the fray. He heard Gladio's voice somewhere. Ignis' too. But too much was going on for him to track them.

Whatever the men's big plan was, no matter how many of them there were, they didn't stand a chance. Or at least they wouldn't if Noctis hadn't provided them with powerful magic. He looked up just in time to see the first man grabbing one of the flasks from the table. “Dad! That's flare!”

Regis warped and cut off the man's hand, and caught the flask as he fell. Noctis lacked the energy to keep up with the rest of the fight. It was in hand. No need for him to do anything. Not that he could do anything yet. His powers still wouldn't come.

Once the fight was over, the Kingsglaive started to examine the room. Noctis shielded Prompto from view with his body, arms outstretched. He'd had elocution lessons since he could talk because he was expected to sound regal and commanding when he gave speeches. Time to put that to use. “Father. Tell them to wait outside.”

Regis gave a nod. He didn't even have to speak to be regal and commanding. The Kingsglaive filed out without a second glance. Gladio and Ignis, who'd naturally assumed the order didn't apply to them, remained.

“Is that _Prompto_?” Gladio said.

“I'll find him some clothing,” Ignis said. Their faces were hard to look at. The haunted look they both wore. “Gladio. Your assistance please.”

“I-” Gladio lifted his hand in some aborted motion. “All right, Iggy.”

That left Noctis and Regis. “You're too fucking late!” The sentence exploded out of Noctis. He jumped forward, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't warp. He landed in front of Regis and came up swinging. “What were you doing?” Regis only caught his fist and pulled him into a tight hug. “They-- They--” Noctis lost the rest of what he was going to say in a rush of sobs. _Again?_

Regis just let him cry it out for a moment. “We'll discuss it later, Noctis. Right now there are more important things to deal with.”

 _Prompto_. Noctis couldn't believe he'd left him just to shout at his dad. His priorities were all over the place. He rushed back to Prompto. Regis followed more slowly, back to limping now he wasn't imbued with the power of kings. He took off his cape and handed it to Prompto. It was big enough to wrap around him like a shroud and he sat up gingerly, hissing at the motion.

“Can you walk?” Regis asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Prompto said. “Uh, Your Majesty.”

His father forced a smile. “There's no need for all that. Is there anyone you'd like us to contact?”

Prompto shook his head.

“He's coming back with us,” Noctis said. They had plenty of room and there was no way Noctis was leaving his side after this.

“Is that what _you_ would like, Prompto?” said Regis, pointedly.

Prompto looked between Regis and Noctis. “Is that allowed? I'm not-- I don't have a title or anything.”

“It's very much allowed and you would be more than welcome.”

There was a rap on the door and they both looked at Prompto.

“Uh, come in?” he said.

It was Ignis. Just Ignis. He must have persuaded Gladio to wait outside. He'd found a tank top and a pair of sweatpants that looked about Prompto's size. “May I approach?”

“Dude,” Prompto said. “You don't have to ask.”

Ignis handed over the clothes. “I found a shower on the premises. Gladio is guarding the corridor to ensure your privacy.”

See, this was why Ignis was the exact person they needed at a time like this. He thought of everything.

Prompto hesitated. “Are they all gone?”

“They're dead,” Regis said. “Every last one of them and we've enough intel to shut their entire organisation down. You can ask me more questions later, if you'd like.”

“Yeah. Later.” Prompto tried to climb down from the table and only managed it with Noctis' assistance. He leaned against Noctis on the way to the shower, with Ignis leading the way.

“I'll be just outside,” Ignis said.

Noctis went into the shower room with Prompto, since he still wasn't steady on his feet.

“I think I can handle it from here, buddy,” Prompto said when Noctis held open the cubicle door for him. 

Noctis didn't want to leave him alone but as his dad had so rightly pointed out, this wasn't about what he wanted. He joined Ignis outside.

“Noct--”

Noctis held up a hand to silence him. “Please. No questions. Not yet.”

Ignis gave a nod of acknowledgement and fell silent. It was over. That was what Noctis had to focus on right now. It was over and he was getting Prompto out of here.

They both heard Prompto break down in the shower, crying in fits and starts. The running water didn't quite mask it although he was obviously trying to hide it. Did he really think Noctis would judge him for grieving after that? That he didn't care enough about his suffering? Noctis stared at his boots until Ignis distracted him by squeezing his shoulder.

“We'll be here to help him through it.”

 _How?_ How could anything make what had happened okay? It wasn't like Noctis' physiotherapy where he could tell it was over because he could run again. Surely it wasn't something you could just learn to live with like the occasional twinges he still got in his spine. 

But Prompto was obviously a lot better at dealing with stuff than Noctis was. When he came out of the shower, there was no sign that he'd ever been crying. He looked a lot more like himself, all scrubbed clean and fully dressed.

“I've arranged discreet transport back to the palace,” Ignis said.

Regis entered the corridor as he was saying it. “I'll take the Regalia and lead any lurking press in the opposite direction. Until then, I'll leave you both in Ignis' capable hands.”

“You don't have to do all this for me,” Prompto said.

“Nonsense. I can do whatever I want.”

Regis turned and walked purposely down the corridor, brooking no further argument. He could manage quite a turn of speed when he wanted to even with his stick. 

“Wait!” Noctis ran up to him, meeting him close to the end of the corridor where Gladio was waiting. “Prompto should be Crownsguard.”

Regis glanced over his shoulder at Prompto, now being guided by Ignis. “This isn't the time for--”

“I'm serious. You saw. He's tougher than most of your soldiers and he did all of that, went through all of that, just to protect me.”

It had been harder and harder to read Regis' face in recent years. Maybe because he had gotten better at hiding things or maybe just because they saw each other less. But something in it softened. “It's not a question of what he's capable of. He needs rest. He needs time to recover. Crownsguard training is gruelling – you're well aware of exactly how gruelling it can be. He needs to be at full capacity. Not to mention that it's up to him whether he wants that life for himself. It's not a decision you can make for him.”

Regis always had a way of not scolding Noctis that really, really felt like he was being scolded. “I don't know how to help.”

“You're doing all you can and that's all anyone can expect of you and all you should expect of yourself. You know him best, so arrange the most suitable room for him.” The room right next to Noctis'. He'd move whatever else Prompto needed into it. Regis pulled him into another hug, then disengaged. “Go back to your friend.” He continued on out of the building.

Ignis was still helping Prompto to move down the corridor. “I'm afraid a doctor will have to examine you,” he was saying. “But all of the palace physicians have been vetted both by myself and the King Regis. Or we can simply ask a member of the Crownsguard to provide healing.”

“Can I--? Can it be a woman? I don't care if she's a healer or a doctor or whatever. I just don't want another guy I don't know...”

Ignis' expression tightened but he kept his voice level. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“What do you want to do when we get back?” Noctis asked. “Food?” Ignis could make one of those way too spicy curries that Prompto liked. “Movies?” Maybe that would help him take his mind off it for a while. Or they could play video games like they always did. Show Prompto that it didn't matter what they'd done to him, he was still the same Prompto he always had been. Still his best friend.

“I just wanna sleep for a while. If that's okay.”

“Anything.”

Anything. Anything at all. The most important thing was that he was safe now and Noctis was going to keep him safe. No matter what.


End file.
